


Dress Up

by laallomri



Category: Cotillion - Georgette Heyer, HEYER Georgette - Works
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laallomri/pseuds/laallomri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Standen daughters want to play. Freddy resigns himself to his fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress Up

"No, dash it! I won't have it!"

The Honourable Frederick Standen strode hurriedly along the corridor of his townhouse, looking much harassed.

"But Papa!" cried the two small girls running after him. "Mama said you would play with us while she and the baby are visiting Aunt Meg!"

"I'll play with you, but I ain't going to do that!"

The older girl kept running, but the younger, who had, much to Mr Standen's exasperation, inherited her mother's large, dark eyes, halted and turned their innocent, imploring gaze on her father, who, finding himself at the door to the parlour, had finally stopped his flight and turned.

"What—"

Lizzy ran right into him, a bundle of brown locks and pale fabric; after ensuring that she was all right, Freddy looked past her to see little Jenny watching him sadly.

"Oh—" He sighed. "Jenny, don't look so wretched. And don't cry, either. Ain't anything to cry about."

"B—but you—you pwomised…" sniffed poor Jenny, whose natural charm was only augmented by a slight lisp. "You pwomised you'd pway with us…"

"Yes, Papa," Lizzy chimed in, clinging to Freddy's leg and in great danger of wrinkling the fabric. "You promised."

Mr Standen looked down at Lizzy, who was making a great effort to have her eyes water, and then at Jenny, who promptly poked out her lower lip and sniffed again.

"Please, Papa?"

"Yes, Papa, pwease?"

He sighed.

.^.

Ten minutes later found both girls in high spirits as they sat on the parlour rug and braided ribbons in their father's hair, quite ruining a most magnificent example of a cut à la Titus.

"Ain't pleased with the two of you," said Freddy, as crossly as he could (which, admittedly, was not very cross at all). In truth, he was quite proud of Jenny for having the sense to choose the dove-grey ribbons over the lilac, as the former complemented the colour of his coat much more nicely. All the crack, and at only four years old!

"You will be pleased when we are finished," said Lizzy, patting the top of his head and further disrupting his hair. He gave it up as a lost cause; between the girls and their mother (who was excessively fond of ruining the arrangements of his cravats), his reputation as the Pinkest of Pinks was in dubious territory.

"Me and Jenny will make you very pretty," Lizzy went on.

"Vewy pwetty," echoed Jenny, putting her palms on either side of his face and pressing her nose against his. Freddy smiled despite himself. "Papa will be vewy pwetty."

"Mama will be so happy," Lizzy continued, with the childish optimism expected of her six years. "And Uncle Jack and Aunt Meg and—"

"No," interrupted Freddy, alarmed. "Ain't going to show this to anyone. 'Specially not Uncle Jack."

"Why?"

Mr Westruther's laughing eyes flashed through Freddy's mind. "Ain't proper," he said promptly.

"Why?" asked Jenny again.

"Against the law," he lied. "Could get you hanged."

Jenny's eyes were round as saucers. "Hanged?" she squeaked.

"That's not true!" Lizzy shouted. "Uncle Jack says it's murder that gets you hanged!"

"What's mur-der?" asked Jenny, looking at Freddy.

He gave Lizzy a hard look; his older daughter had the decency to look contrite.

"It's when you make somebody dead," she said. "So if we make Papa dead, we're murder-ers."

"Oh." Jenny shrank. "But I wike you, Papa! I don't want to make you dead!"

"That's a relief," said Mr Standen, thinking of Aunt Augusta. "Can't say the same for everyone."

We can pretend to make Papa dead!" Lizzy announced, evidently at random. "Come, Jenny! Get the villain! He stole Mama's rubies!"

The two girls hurriedly pulled cushions from the sofa and began to attack their father with them; Freddy, not one to take a mill sitting down, managed to abduct little Jenny and hold her hostage.

"Ransom," he declared, settling her on his shoulders, "is the pie we're having after dinner."

Jenny peered forward, her chubby little arms twined round her father's neck. "What sort of pie?"

"Apple."

"Oh. But I wike apple pie."

"So do I," said Lizzy, hovering by the window with her cushion at the ready.

"S'pose I just have to keep Jenny, that's all," he said unconcernedly. "Little girls make nice pie, you know. Nice an' plump." He redoubled his grip on Jenny and began to leave the room. "Head to the kitchen now an' cook her up."

Jenny shrieked for her sister to hit him with the cushion.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Dress Up [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6470770) by [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass)




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